Modern Technology
by dawn341
Summary: Fifth season story. Sometimes, Duncan and modern technology just don't get along.


Modern Technology by Dawn Cunningham

Disclaimers:

Duncan, Richie, Joe, Amanda and Methos belong to Rysher. I'm just borrowing them and not getting paid for it.

Do not post or publish this story anywhere else, without my express permission. Feel free to share it with others as long as the disclaimers remain intact.

This story was written many years ago.

Author's notes:

Okay - what can I say? This story will probably convince you that I've definitely been working too many hours lately and have totally lost my mind.

This is a fifth season story that takes place sometime after Messenger. I've taken a few liberties with canon by bringing Amanda and Richie back to town.

* HL * HL * HL * HL * HL *

Modern Technology by Dawn Cunningham

Duncan laid the screwdriver down on the desk in the dojo office with a sense of achievement. There'd really been nothing to it. Just a few minor repairs, that was all. No need to waste his money buying a new one, like Richie had suggested. It didn't matter that buying a new one wouldn't have cost him all that much. It was the principle that mattered. Just because something was old, didn't make it useless.

The Scot picked up the device and carried it with him to the loft above. A few more moments of work and it was ready to do its job again. A red zero stared up at him from the answering machine before he turned away. Duncan had a lot to get done today.

The next item on his list was to do the bookkeeping for the dojo. Duncan started the computer and let it boot up while he fetched another cup of coffee from the kitchen. Returning to the desk, he sat down and pulled the computer toward him. An unexpected message greeted his eyes.

Hard disk failure.

"Damn," Duncan said, setting his coffee cup down. He tried rebooting again, but the computer refused to start. He knew this was beyond his repair skills - the computer would have to be taken to someone to be fixed. The Scot reached for his coffee cup and took a sip.

It was cold.

He carried the cup back into the kitchen and dumped the contents into the sink. Cautiously, he touched the pot. It was just barely warm. Duncan noticed the heating control light was off. He unplugged the machine and plugged it back in, feeling a sense of satisfaction when the light came back on. That problem was solved.

Time to move on to his other chores. Tonight he was hosting a small dinner party in honor of Joe's birthday. Amanda had flown into town just to help them celebrate. Richie was back from his travels after his run-in with the fake Methos. And, of course, the real Methos was still hanging around, as well. It promised to be an enjoyable evening.

Assuming he got everything ready in time. Duncan shut off the coffee pot, picked up the computer to drop off at a repair shop he'd used before and grabbed his jacket before he headed for the door.

An hour later he returned, laden with sacks brimming with food. He glanced at the answering machine and saw the number had changed from zero to one. Duncan set the bags down on the counter and went back to press the replay button.

While the machine rewound the tape, he started putting the groceries away. A moment later, the sound of Methos' voice filled the loft. Unfortunately, the message wasn't exactly clear. The machine kept skipping words.

"MacLeod, it's Meth... I'm... trouble... need...help... I'm at... soon." A loud squeal ended the message.

In three strides, Duncan was at the answering machine to hit the replay button again. The message remained the same each time he listened to it. After five tries, he gave up, and headed for the phone. Maybe Joe would have some information.

Instead of Joe, it was Mike who answered the phone.

"Hey, Mike, is Joe around?" Duncan asked quickly.

"Sorry, he's not here right now. He said he had some errands to run, but I don't know when he'll be back."

Duncan almost groaned in frustration. "Fine, would you tell him to give me a call when he gets back."

"Sure thing," Mike promised.

Duncan hung up the phone. It struck a deep nerve knowing he was helpless when one of his friends was in trouble and needed him. He wanted to do something, but, without some information, he had no way of knowing what to do.

With nothing else to do, Duncan went downstairs, fetched the tools he was using earlier and began tinkering with the answering machine. He finally spotted the problem and quickly fixed it. He plugged it back in, then went into the kitchen to finish putting away the groceries, determined to keep busy.

As he emptied the last sack, he remembered that he hadn't been able to carry everything up in one trip so he went down to the T-bird to fetch the rest of the groceries.

A sense of deja vu struck as he exited the elevator and saw the answering machine with the number one showing again. Hopefully, this time the message would be from Methos announcing he was fine and didn't need his help anymore.

It wasn't.

Richie's irritated voice rang out - ten times louder than it should have been. When the volume control knob had no effect on the message, Duncan clasped his hands over his ears as the words boomed out through the loft. "It's Richie. I just wanted you to know I'm going after Methos." A loud slam ended the dialogue.

Duncan groaned in dismay. If he understood the message correctly, the young Immortal was going to challenge Methos. What was Richie thinking? He knew how old Methos was. He had to know he didn't have a chance. It didn't matter how many heads the young Immortal had taken over the last few months. He wasn't ready to challenge a 5000-year-old Immortal.

Or maybe Richie was going to help Methos? Maybe the older Immortal had called Richie asking for his help when he couldn't find Duncan. Still, Methos had made his opinion of Richie quite clear when he had found out the younger Immortal had bought the fake Methos' line.

Somehow, he couldn't picture Methos calling Richie for help. The Scot grabbed up his phone and dialed Richie's place. No answer.

Now what should he do?

Duncan started pacing around the loft. Surely, Methos' phone call wasn't because he was afraid Richie was after him? There had to be another Immortal involved. And what had caused Richie to decide to take on the older Immortal? What would Methos do when faced with Richie? Would he take the younger Immortal's head? Or just teach him a much needed lesson? It could go either way.

Once again, he picked up his tools and tinkered with the answering machine. He'd just finished reassembling it when the sudden shrill ring of his phone caused him to start slightly. He hurried over to answer it.

"It's Joe. Mike said you wanted to talk to me," came across the line.

"Yeah, Joe. Do you know where Methos is?"

"Sorry, Mac, haven't seen him today. He made some comment, last night, about having some shopping to do. What's wrong?"

"I think someone may be after him. Can you check to see if any other Immortals are in the area?"

"Sure, but it's going to take some time."

"Just do the best you can. I'm on my way over there now." Duncan hung up the phone and hurried towards the elevator.

* HL * HL * HL * HL * HL *

Duncan strode into Joe's place, coat tails flapping in the breeze. The Watcher wasn't behind the bar so the Scot went directly to Joe's office. He gave a brief tap on the door, but didn't wait for permission to enter. "Did you find anything out?" he asked.

"Nice to see you, too, MacLeod," Joe replied a trifle sarcastically. "No, I haven't found anything out yet. As far as I can tell, there are no new Immortals in the area. Of course, that doesn't mean one of them didn't arrive today. It usually takes some time before visiting Watchers check in. So, what's happening?"

"I don't know. I got a garbled message from Methos sounding like he was in trouble. I just don't know where to find him." Duncan paced around the small office for a few moments. "What about Richie? Have you seen or talked to him today?"

"Not him, too?" Joe asked, a startled look on his face. "What's going on?"

"It's worse than that," Duncan replied. "I think he might be going after Methos, himself."

"To help him? That sounds like something Richie would do."

"I... I think he may be after Methos' head," Duncan said quietly.

"What makes you think that?"

"His message said he was going after Methos. Plus, he sounded pretty upset. I don't know what else to think," Duncan said.

"Maybe Methos called him for help when he couldn't reach you," Joe suggested.

Duncan threw a disbelieving look at Joe. "You must be kidding. Can you honestly believe Methos would call Richie for *help*?"

Joe threw up his hands. "Okay, so it was a silly idea. I still can't see Richie trying for his head. Just a few weeks ago he wasn't going to fight anymore. What would change that?"

"I don't know. None of this makes sense," Duncan replied. "Do you have a Watcher on Richie?"

"Not right now. I gave his normal Watcher a few days off while Richie was here in town. Sorry, MacLeod."

"Damn! All right, Joe, I'm going back home just in case one of them calls. Keep checking from your end. Maybe one of us will get lucky." Without another word, Duncan spun around and left the office.

* HL * HL * HL * HL * HL *

Duncan stared down at the answering machine and the glowing number one, trying to work up the nerve to play the message. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the rewind button. The only problem was the message was so low he could barely hear it. He listened intently to the message several times, but only a few words were understandable. Amanda and Hunters.

Duncan collapsed into the nearby chair with a groan. Hunters were back and after Amanda! He tried to tell himself that Amanda could take care of herself. She'd survived for over a thousand years - surely she could handle a few Hunters. She was a very wily and cunning woman.

So why did he feel like his world was crumbling around his feet?

Once again, he headed for his phone and called Joe. He quickly explained Amanda's message to the Watcher who promised to check things out. Duncan slammed the phone down in the cradle.

For more than an hour Duncan paced around the loft. Eventually, he found himself working on the answering machine again. Satisfied that the machine would work correctly now, he plugged it back in. Then he resumed his pacing.

When the phone finally rang, he jumped for the kitchen extension.

"MacLeod," he barked.

"It's Joe," came the reply.

"You have reached 555-4393," Duncan's own voice echoed across the phone line. "I'm not here..."

"Hold on a second, Joe. Let me shut the answering machine off," Duncan told the Watcher.

He hurried across the room to his desk and hit the stop button. The message stopped and he heard the tape rewinding. Duncan returned to the phone. "Okay, Joe..."

"You have reached 555-4393..."

"Damn!" Duncan stalked back to the answering machine and hit the stop button again. He didn't even get back to the phone before the message started repeating itself.

With a snarl, Duncan stomped over to the machine and ripped out the phone and power lines. Sparks flew for a second and then silence filled the loft.

The Immortal went back to the phone. "Sorry about that, Joe. It won't happen again."

A chuckle came across the line. "Did you take its head?" he asked. "Do I need to put this in your Chronicle?"

"Sure, Joe. Even took its Quickening. Now, what did you find out?"

"Nothing. There haven't been any reports of Hunters. No unusual amount of Watchers in the area. No new Immortals in the area. Nothing."

"Damn! What do I do now, Joe? I've got three friends out there in danger! I *have* to do something!"

"I don't know, Mac," Joe replied. "Maybe all *we* can do is wait."

A surge of guilt flooded through Duncan. They weren't just his friends, they were Joe's, too. "I'm going to go out and drive around for a while," the Scot announced. "Maybe I'll get lucky and sense one of them. I'll check in with you as often as I can."

"Okay. I'll keep searching on this end. If I find out anything, I'll call you on your cell phone."

* HL * HL * HL * HL * HL *

As Duncan drove around town, he couldn't help but wonder why none of his friends had tried him on his cell phone. They all had the number and would have reached him immediately. He pulled the device out of his pocket and pressed the on button.

Nothing happened. No dial tone.

He glanced down quickly and spotted the low battery light. While it solved that mystery, Duncan began to feel like he was being persecuted by modern technology.

An hour later he admitted defeat and headed home. As he was climbing the stairs to the dojo entrance, he felt the touch of another Immortal. Whirling around, one hand automatically reaching for his hidden katana, Duncan surveyed the area.

A taxi came to a stop right by the stairs and Amanda climbed out of it. Duncan hurried down to her side.

"Amanda, are you all right? What happened?" he asked anxiously.

"Duncan, would you pay this nice man. Oh, and give him a good tip. He was so helpful with all my packages." Amanda spun around and went to the back of the car where the driver was unloading the trunk.

In almost a daze, Duncan did as she asked, then stood there while she loaded his arms with sacks. He followed her inside and into the elevator. "Amanda, what happened to the Hunters?" he asked.

Amanda shot him a confused look. "Nothing, Duncan. Honestly. I didn't rob the place or anything like that."

Now it was Duncan's turn to be confused until he noticed the store label on one of the sacks Amanda was carrying.

"Hunters! You've been shopping all this time?!"

"Oh, yes, and I got some great bargains. I couldn't believe it when I saw the grand opening sale sign in their window. It's a wonderful store, Duncan. I'm sure you'll love it, too."

Duncan almost staggered over to the couch, stopping midway to dump the sacks on the coffee table before collapsing onto the furniture. "I don't believe this," he moaned, leaning his head back against the couch.

"Duncan, what's wrong? I left you a message about doing some shopping at Hunters before I came home. I don't understand." Amanda gracefully sat down next to the Scot.

"I could barely make out the message," Duncan told her. "I thought Hunters were after you."

"And you were worried about me?" Amanda said with a smile. She climbed into his lap and brushed the hair back from his face. "That is *so* sweet of you." She leaned in to kiss him.

Duncan tightly wrapped his arms around Amanda. At least one of his friends was safe. He deepened the kiss in an effort to forget the other two missing friends for just a few minutes.

The touch of another Immortal, followed by a sharp rap at the door, sent them flying apart. Duncan rose to his feet and went to open the door. Methos casually strolled in.

"So, you decided to finally come home," Methos said as he walked over to the couch and sat down. "I really could have used your help this morning."

Duncan swallowed harshly as his stomach did flip-flops. Methos was here - so what did that mean about Richie? Striving for a neutral expression, the Scot joined Methos and Amanda.

"What kind of trouble did you have?" Duncan asked cautiously. "Your message was a... little garbled." And that was an understatement if he'd ever heard one.

"Nothing major. Just a spot of car trouble. Unfortunately, I was in the middle of nowhere and it took forever for Richie to get there."

"Richie?" Duncan asked, pleased that he kept his voice normal.

"You're going to have to do something about him, MacLeod," Methos warned. "His attitude lacks something. He practically growled at me when I called him for help."

The sound of the elevator starting interrupted their conversation.

"That should be him, now," Methos said. "I'm surprised you haven't taught him the important things in life, like helping your fellow man, or one good turn deserves another."

Duncan heaved a sigh of relief as the elevator opened and Richie stepped out of it. His friends were all safe. And if he worked this right, Methos and Richie need never know what he'd thought their messages had been. He'd just have to warn Joe not to mention it.

"Hey, Mac," Richie said as he joined them in the living area. "Where were you this morning? I really didn't appreciate having to drag myself out of bed just to go rescue the old timer."

"Hot date last night?" Amanda asked archly.

"Oh, yeah, last night and this morning. She wasn't too happy about having our... exercise interrupted, either. Hey, I thought you were making dinner for us tonight, Mac. There's nothing cooking. And what happened to the answering machine?" Richie pointed at the device.

"Something came up. I decided we could go out some place to eat - my treat," Duncan replied. "As for the answering machine." The Scot shrugged. "I decided it wasn't worth fixing."

They chatted for another fifteen minutes before Duncan looked at his watch. "Why don't all of you go over to Joe's while I get cleaned up. I'll meet you there and we can decide where we want to eat then."

"Sounds fine to me," Methos said as he stood up. He offered a helping hand to Amanda before turning to the youngest Immortal. "Richie, do you want to go with us in my car or take your bike?"

"I'll take my bike. I've seen what kind of shape your car is in," Richie replied with a grin. "See you later, Mac."

Duncan saw them all out before heading for the phone. He made a quick phone call to Joe to get a promise of silence from his Watcher, although Joe had chuckled over the whole thing. Duncan knew he would be teased for a long time about that. Then he headed for the shower.

Twenty minutes later, he was ready to go. He picked up Joe's birthday gift and entered the elevator. Lowering the grate, he pressed the down button, then waited patiently as the elevator slowly started descending.

Duncan was totally unprepared for the sudden, lurching stop of the elevator halfway down. He tried pressing each of the buttons but the device refused to start back up.

With a curse, he settled down on the floor. Who knew how long it would be before one of his friends came looking from him. He could be stuck here for a while.

One thing was certain, when this day was over, he'd head up to his cabin. Get away from all this modern technology.

Life had been so much easier before it.

The end.


End file.
